


Confessions

by Lyledebeast



Series: Lathered [3]
Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Licking, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of Prostitution, Rimming, discussion of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-12 14:55:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5670034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyledebeast/pseuds/Lyledebeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allan comforts Guy in the aftermath of Marian's confession that she is in love with Robin Hood.  Guy tells Allan something about his past.  Lots of comfort and cuddling.  And some porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine. All characters are the property of the BBC and Tiger Aspect Productions.
> 
> Chapter two is back up! The third and final chapter should be up soon.

As Allan entered the corridor to make his way to the dining hall for the evening meal, he was startled by the sound of a harsh whisper of his name just behind him. He jumped and turned around to see Lady Marian emerge from the shadows, her face pale.

  
“Marian? What are you doing here?” he asked. Since he had begun spying for Robin, he and Marian often relayed messages to him through each other, but her look of distress made him certain that was not why she had come.

  
“Allan, I need to speak to you.”

  
He felt his chest tighten with anxiety. “Has something happened to Robin? Or Will?”

  
“Oh no, nothing like that. It’s about Guy.”

  
“Guy?”

  
Allan knitted his brows, perplexed. What could Marian have to say about Guy that didn’t involve Robin or the gang? Of course he knew they were married; it had been quite the topic of conversation in the camp just before Allan had been forced out. But if they had troubles, they certainly kept them to themselves. Guy barely ever spoke her name, and Allan knew he hadn’t been to Locksley in weeks.

  
Marian hesitated at first, as though grasping, for the right words, but then shook her head a little in frustration and began speaking very quickly: “This morning, I told Guy that I’m in love with Robin.”

  
“You did what?!” Allan cried a little too loudly. He felt a sudden need to sit down.

  
“Shh! I don’t want the whole castle to hear. I told Guy about me and Robin.”

  
Allan looked at her in shock. “Look, I’m not bein’ funny, but doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose of marrying him? Moving to Locksley?”  
Marian gave him a look of surprise. “I no longer live at Locksley.”

  
“I suppose not, since you’ve told Guy you’re in love with worst enemy and all.”

  
“No, I . . . I haven’t lived there in some time. I’m back at Knighton with my father. Guy didn’t tell you?”

  
Allan smirked quizzically and shook his head. “No matter what you and Robin think, Guy doesn’t tell me everything. I don’t know why you would think that.”

  
Now it was Marian’s turn to look unconvinced. “Don’t play innocent, Allan. You know that I talk to the servants. Did you really believe you were being subtle? Guy courted me for two years. I know there’s no subtly in him.”

  
Allan felt his eyes widen and sputtered for a couple of seconds in shock. “How’d? . . . wha? What does that have to do with you and Robin?” he finally snapped, hoping to change the subject. He wondered if Guy knew they were the subject of servants’ gossip. Guy’s men certainly knew, but it seemed unlikely they would tell the servants. And if he was uncomfortable with that, how would his proud, ambitious lover feel?

  
She hesitated and looked down, as though embarrassed. “I’m worried about Guy.”

  
Allan felt a little spark of anger ignite inside him at that. “If you were worried about Guy, you should have kept your secret, shouldn’t you?” he scoffed.

  
Marian glared at him and opened her mouth to say something sharp in return, but then she seemed to think the better of it, and her features softened.  
“I’m worried about what he’ll do.”

  
Now that he was over the shock, Allan wondered too. Guy obviously hadn’t hurt Marian; would he hurt himself instead? Suddenly, Allan felt desperate to find him.  
“How did he take it when you told him?”

  
Marian sighed and looked away again. “At first he just stared at me like he didn’t understand, like you did just now. Then he started pacing like a trapped animal. He stopped, asked me a question, and paced a little more. Finally, he left without saying a word.”

  
“What did he ask you?”

  
Marian looked at him and away again guiltily before answering: “He asked me how long I’ve loved Robin.”

  
“And what did you tell him?”

  
This time, she fixed her gaze on him and said slowly, “The truth. Since before we were married. Before Robin left for the Holy Land. For as long as I can remember.”

  
Allan knew he should sympathize, that she couldn’t help who she loved, but all he felt for her was disgust.

  
“Well, it could have gone worse for you, Marian, I have to say,” he replied coldly. “You could be in the dungeon, or worse, and yet here you are, walking free. What do you want from me anyway?”

  
“I want you to make sure Guy is alright.”

  
Allan sneered, "Him or you?”

  
She glowered again but answered in a controlled tone. “Whether you believe me or not, I do feel sorry for him.”

  
“Like you felt sorry for him for all the months, no, it’s years now, right? Lying to his face. Letting him believe you could love him. Using that to wrap him around your little finger.”

  
This time she couldn’t stop herself from snapping, “Don’t tell me how I felt, Allan! I’m trying to do the right thing. I would think you might understand that! I told him because I wanted to be free, and I want him to feel free too.”

  
“Well that sounds noble,” Allan replied. Put that way, it did sound pretty noble to him, but he wasn’t ready to give Marian the satisfaction.

  
She looked at him wearily, shook her head, and began to walk away.

  
Allan felt a twinge of remorse. He might be angry with Marian, but he didn’t want to part with her on such bad terms.

  
“I’ll do what I can,” he muttered at her retreating form.

  
She stopped for a second, and Allan thought she would turn around, but she simply uttered a soft, barely audible “thank you,” and continued on her way.

  
* * *

  
Allan approached Guy’s bedroom that night with a feeling of trepidation he had not known for many weeks. He had been sleeping there since that cold night when Guy had invited him into his bed to get warm, but even with the coming of springtime temperatures, Guy had never hinted that he wanted to sleep alone again. Allan had not seen him for long enough to do more than confirm he was still at the castle since Marian’s confession, and he had no idea what to expect from him.

  
When he arrived at the door, he noticed with relief that the guard standing beside it was Giles, a calm, broad-shouldered man in his late thirties who had been with Guy longer than any of the others. While all of his men were loyal, Giles seemed to most understand and appreciate the man he served, not just the position. Allan had often noticing him trying to explain his master’s behavior to the others, who sometimes chafed under Guy’s more senseless orders, particularly those handed down from the Sheriff. And he had never seen Giles snicker or whisper when he entered Guy’s bedroom, as the others sometimes did.

  
“Good evening, sir,” Giles greeted as he approached. While Guy insisted that all of his men defer to Allan, he was one of the only ones to do so without sarcasm written all over his face, so Allan returned his greeting with a smile before turning serious.

  
“How is he, Giles?”

  
The older man frowned and shrugged. “He said narry a word to any of us when he went in, sir. He looked upset, but you know how he is. No one would dare ask why. But he’s been out of sorts, to tell the truth, and I . . .”

  
“Go on,” Allan encouraged.

  
“If he were shouting and throwing things, I’d be easier. That’s nothing we haven’t seen before. But he’s just tense and tight and . . . he just looks defeated, sir. I don’t know. Be careful tonight.”

  
“Well, if he throws me out, I’m glad I have you here to catch me,” Allan quipped, and Giles gave him a small, slow smile in return. It was just enough encouragement to help steel Allan for his entry.

  
He pushed the door open to the sight of Guy’s large form in the bed with the covers pulled over his head. At least there was still a candle lit, a sign that, upset as he was, he still expected Allan to join him. The thought aided his courage as he began undressing, but while Guy did not speak, he could tell from the rhythm of his breathing that he was still awake. After pulling off his boots and trousers, Allan decided to keep his smallclothes on. If Guy was indeed going to throw him out, he’d rather not be fully naked when it happened.

  
He blew out the candle, climbed under the covers, and put his hand on Guy’s bare shoulder.

  
“Is everything alright, Guy?”

  
“Hmm? What?” he answered, groggily, but with a touch of snappishness, as though trying to sound sleepier than he actually was.

  
Unsatisfied, Allan summoned his courage. Gently gripping Guy’s shoulder, as much for his own security as his lover’s, he said, “I saw Marian this afternoon. She told me what she told you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay before we fall asleep.”

  
He felt Guy’s whole frame stiffen at the mention of Marian’s name, and he turned around to glare at Allan. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he growled, and faced the wall again, laying down with a huff.

  
Allan felt a moment’s regret for bringing the subject up, but Guy’s silence at least made it clear that he wasn’t going to ask him to leave, so he pressed closer. When he wrapped his arm around his chest, Guy heaved a deep sigh, but began to relax a little bit. Allan felt certain he was doing the right thing.

  
“I know you don’t, Giz. But I’m here if you wanted to, alright?” And then he pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

  
Guy tensed again, and Allan wondered if he had done something wrong. Then the tension turned into a gentle shudder across Guy’s shoulders, accompanied by a sniffling inhale through his nose. Allan considered that maybe he had picked up a springtime cold, but another, stronger shudder through his body suggested another reason to his mind. When the shaking continued along with more sniffles, Allan felt his eyes widen in disbelief. Guy was crying.

  
While the realization shocked him at first, his thoughts quickly turned to sympathy and understanding. While he had been part of Robin’s gang at the time, he knew how long Guy had been pursuing Marian. Since moving to the castle, he had seen for himself the way that Guy looked at her, with a mixture of desire and awe that made him seem almost intimidated by her at times. If he was honest, it filled him with no small amount of envy. And now she had seen fit to clear her conscience by breaking his heart, making it clear not only that she didn’t return his love now, but that she never even believed she could, that she had only married him in order to use him. He felt his anger at her begin to well up inside him, but instead directed his attention to the man next to him.

  
“There, Giz. I know, I know,” he cooed, holding him tighter and giving him another soft kiss on the back of the neck.

  
“And I thought . . . but she . . . the whole time, Allan,” he whispered, voice quavering.

  
Several unflattering comments about Marian’s conduct presented themselves to him, but he dismissed all of them. The last thing he wanted was to insult her and have Guy, even now, come to her defense. So he just continued murmuring words of comfort into his ear and gently massaging the juncture of his neck and shoulder where he knew Guy loved to be touched.

  
After a little while, he felt him relax again and his breathing returned to normal. Not a minute too soon, Allan though, as his arm cramped from the oddness of the position. He held Guy against his chest, and wrapped his arm around his waist. Usually, their positions were reversed, and now Allan realized why. He had to choose between smooshing his face against the other man broad back to keep his rear fitted comfortably against his lap or laying his head on Guy’s shoulder and having his rear press awkwardly against his thighs, neither of which was particularly comfortable.

  
“Umm, Giz. I don’t know about you, but this small spoon as big spoon thing doesn’t seem to be working. Do you think we might . . . ?”

  
Without his needing to say another word, Guy rolled over in Allan’s arms to face him and pulled him against his chest. As soon as his face touched Guy’s neck, Allan felt the wetness left there by his tears. That evidence struck him even harder than his Guy’s sounds and movements had, and he felt moisture gathering in his own eyes.

  
“I’m so sorry she hurt you, Guy,” he whispered.

  
Guy tightened his arms around him so much at those words that Allan soon wished he had kept his mouth shut. “Giz,” he creaked out, barely able to draw breath, “you don’t need to cuddle me quite so hard, you know. I’m not as big as you.” Guy chuckled softly, but relaxed his grip, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of Allan’s head. Allan nestled his face against Guy’s smooth chest, and listened to his heartbeat slow as he drifted off to sleep. How much had changed, he thought, in those weeks since Guy had refused to admit that he enjoyed holding him in his arms like this. If he wasn’t careful, this sweet side would come out in his daily life, and then what would the Sheriff do with his Master at Arms? The thought was enough to put a smile on Allan’s face as he too found sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

In the weeks that followed, it was plain to him that Guy was more sad and pensive than usual, and while he never named her as a reason, Allan knew that he was thinking about Marian. But, at the same time, he was slower to anger, not only with him but with his men as well. Allan has suspected that a major source of his frustration had been that he blamed himself for the failure of his marriage. If that were true, he felt grateful to Marian for telling him. He himself had certainly benefitted from her honesty. While neither he nor Guy were much given to talking about their feelings, their daily interactions had become much easier. Guy now allowed himself to laugh at Allan’s jokes, and Allan no longer worried so much about what others thought when they saw them together. If the servants already knew, why trouble themselves to be careful? He did still feel anxious around the Sheriff, but when he broached the subject, Guy’s response surprised him.

“Of course he knows; what would make you think he didn’t?” he asked calmly, propping up his pillow and lying back against it.

Allan sat up quickly from his position on the bed next to Guy and felt a quick prickling of terror at the back of his neck. “Did you tell him?” he gasped.

Guy smirked and shook his head ruefully. “Of course I didn’t, but I never told him how things were with Marian and me, and that didn’t stop him from knowing it. The Sheriff has always been a man of information.”

“But what do you think he’ll do if he knows that we . . . you know.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand, indicating both of them and the bed.

“Are you so worried about what he’ll think of you if he knows you’re sharing a bed with a man? Concerned you won’t be the wonder boy anymore?” Guy teased, smiling.

“Are you not?”

The smile faded from Guy’s face to be replaced by a look of uncertainty. He looked around as though afraid someone else could hear him, though only the two of them were in the room, “He knew about me before I even started working for him.”

“How?” Allan asked, hoping he sounded more concerned than inquisitive.

Guy looked away for a second, then back at Allan, worriedly. Almost regretfully, he seemed to come to a decision, and motioned for him to get closer. He pulled Allan down against him, wrapping his arm around his waist as he lay his head on his shoulder. Allan found the sudden closeness a bit unsettling. He was used to lying with Guy like this, but not during conversation. Whatever it was he was going to tell him, he clearly wanted to feel his presence without Allan being able to look at him. When they were both comfortable, he began.

“When I first met the Sheriff, I was living in Normandy with a knight. I started as his squire, but it time we became closer and I was given more responsibility. He was older than I was, and he claimed to have favor with Prince John. This was only a few years after I left was forced to leave Locksley, and I was still in rather difficult circumstances. He was going to use his influence to help me gain a knighthood, but his plans to make the necessary introductions for me always fell through, for one reason or another. He wasn’t a bad man, and I think it was his intention to do what he could for me; he just wasn’t as important as he believed he was. He was never cruel to me himself, but he was a gambler, and a bad one. He had many debts, and one was to a French lord who seemed to have an interest in me. I thought perhaps he would help me since my lord had failed to, and he was very good-looking. It was easy to go to his bed, but I remember feeling so guilty telling my lord what happened.” Guy paused to chuckle bitterly. “He was delighted; his debt had been cleared. I thought he would feel betrayed. I had slept with men before, but he was the first who really seemed to want to take care of me. Instead, he couldn’t wait to offer me to another debtor, and another one after that. Some were alright, I suppose; others just treated me like a whore. Even though I knew he was never going to help me, I had nowhere else to go. Then he met the Sheriff, Lord Vaisey he was at the time, and he was the first man to come along who actually did know Prince John and was interested in something other than bedding me. He told me that he could choose any ambitious young squire, that they were twenty a shilling, but none of them were as hungry for what he could offer as I was. So, I went with him, thinking, ‘well, even if I don’t become a knight, at least he doesn’t want to fuck me.’ How wrong I was. I’ve been with the Sheriff now for more than ten years, and sometimes I wonder if knighthood was worth the price. I’ve been more well and truly fucked than if I had stayed in Normandy.”

For a minute after Guy had finished speaking, Allan struggled find words. He had been accustomed to hearing bawdy stories about knights and squires in taverns, so Guy’s story didn’t shock him, but it hurt him to know that younger Guy had been so used. Allan lifted his head to see the old scowl of frustration spread across Guy’s face. This lord certainly sounded like a bad man to him, but he supposed Guy had never been a very good judge of character.

He shifted to his side to wrap his arms around Guy’s shoulders and felt him sigh as he pressed his face against his neck.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Giz.”

Guy shrugged, but made no attempt to move out of Allan’s embrace.

“Which bit? The prostitution or the Sheriff?”

“All of it. You don’t deserve that.”

Guy turned away and made no reply. A couple of seconds later, he sat up and reached down to look for his clothes.

“So, as I was saying, you have nothing to worry about,” he said with studied lightness, pulling on his shirt and avoiding Allan’s eyes.

“And the Sheriff has never held what you used to do against you?”

Guy laughed. “Oh, he would if he thought he needed it to get what he wanted from me. How many times has he threatened me just this week? But he doesn’t care about sodomy for itself, you know.”

“So you think it’s alright then?” Allan knew he sounded unconvinced, but he couldn’t understand why Guy sounded so flippant.

“Look, Allan. Marian has defied the Sheriff more times than I can count, and she’s free to do as she pleases because of me.”

“Nice. Then you annul Marian and marry me why don’t you?” Allan replied petulantly.

Guy breathed a sigh and turned to put his hand on Allan’s shoulder. “If only that were an option. What I mean is, I still have some influence with the Sheriff. He’s not going to execute my wife unless I tell him that she’s Robin Hood’s lover. Why would he make trouble for you when he knows you’re mine?”

Allan startled at that last choice of words, but then back to smile at Guy. In all the time they had been sleeping together, he had never spoken of Allan as being his. Happiness welled up inside him, outmatching the anxiety he felt over what would happen if Guy discovered that he, too, was still in league with Robin Hood. He didn’t trust himself to speak.

Guy apparently mistook his silence as a wish to change the subject, because the next thing he said was, “Allan, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

This did nothing to calm his nerves, and the pleasure he felt dissipated. “Please don’t let this be about Robin” he begged inwardly.

“I was wondering,” Guy continued, “if you’d like to come with me to Locksley.”

Allan raised his eyebrows, surprised again. He had never been to Locksley when Guy was there except as a member of the gang. “Why do you want me at Locksley?”

“I thought we might try something a little . . . different,” Guy replied with a suggestive smile.

Allan didn’t know if he should be excited or scared. The first time Guy had seen him naked had been in the dungeon, where he had also been subjected to something new that he hadn’t enjoyed at all. He thought Guy was now far removed from any desire to hurt him, but he still didn’t quite trust those smiles.

“I guess I could go for something different,” Allan said with a smile, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

* * *

They chose two nights later for their trip, but Guy sent word to Allan at the middle of the day that he was delayed by a feast in honor of some nobles travelling through Nottingham, and Allan would need to go to Locksley by himself “if he could remember the way.”

Allan certainly did. Even though Marian had left Locksley, Guy had insisted it was still her home as much as his, and she should feel free to go there any time she wanted. As a result, he had avoided the place like the plague unless he absolutely had to take care of estate matters. Guy was there so little that both Allan and Marian frequently used it as a meeting place to deliver news to Robin. Robin sometimes joked that he could move back in and it would take Gisborne weeks to notice. Fortunately, Guy’s tardiness had given Allan time to deliver a message to Robin to stay away from Locksley that night before heading there himself.

When he arrived, he was surprised to see that there were candles lit inside the windows, and when he took his horse to the stable he discovered Guy’s bay mare already in her stall. He must have finished with the nobles much earlier than expected. Allan knocked at the front door, which opened a few moments to reveal a smiling Guy and a roaring fire with a bathtub prominently displayed in front of it, along with several buckets. Making sure that no one else was in the room, Allan stood on the tips of his toes to greet Guy with a kiss.

“You got here early,” he observed.

Guy shrugged in reply. “I wasn’t needed, apparently. I think it’s because they asked about the situation with Robin Hood. After I answered, the Sheriff couldn’t wait to get rid of me. He says I don’t lie convincingly enough.”

Allan smiled ruefully; he had no trouble believing that.

“You seem to have lost all your servants too,” Allan said teasingly, looking around the quiet and empty house.

“No, I sent them home early. Sometimes you just want to be alone.” Guy smirked.

“Sometimes you don’t want any pesky eyewitnesses,” Allan’s brain supplied unhelpfully, and he felt the smile on his face fading.

“So, did you have a nice bath?” he asked, indicating the tub, trying to change the subject.

“That’s for you,” Guy replied, his smirk broadening.

Allan felt a spark of panic race down his spine at that prospect. When he first came to the castle, he was made to report while Guy was in the bath, like a servant. Why were their positions to be reversed now?

“I don’t see the potatoes and carrots, Giz.”

“The what?” Guy asked, knitting his brows in confusion.

“Well, you’re about to add me to a pot of hot water by the fire. I can only assume you’re making peasant stew.”

Guy continued to stare at him wide-eyed for a few seconds longer, until Allan was beginning to blush with embarrassment at his failed joke, before throwing his head back with a bark of laughter.

“No, Allan. That’s not what I’m hungry for. I just want you clean.”

Allan’s blush deepened for a different reason now. “Why? Am I dirtier than usual? Do I smell?” He was beginning to feel uncharacteristically self-conscious.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Guy insisted. “I just want . . . just humor me, okay?”

Allan chewed his lips indecisively as he looked at the tub. He had to admit, the idea had some appeal. Usually, he had to make do with a quick wipe down from a cold—icy in the winter—bucket. Or the river, when he was living in the forest. Sometimes, that was what he missed most: easy access to moving water.

“What about you?” he asked. He thought he’d feel better if Guy were naked too. It might be a pleasant distraction from whatever was to come.

“I don’t think we’d both fit. Would you like a glass of wine?”

“Oh, yeah,” Allan replied. He certainly felt a need for a drink.

Considering the size of the tub more closely, Allan was amazed that Guy could fit in it by himself. The one he had at the castle seemed larger, but the last time he had seen Guy bathe he had been too scared of being caught looking to pay much attention. How long ago that seemed.

Allan was still staring at it, fully clothed, when Guy handed him his goblet.

“Aren’t you going to get in?” he asked. Allan looked up, startled, to see the concerned look on the other man’s face. He took a gulp of the deep red liquid to steel himself, then sat the goblet down by the tub and began to unfasten the clasps on his jacket. He had just pulled his undershirt off and sat down to do the same with his boots when he noticed Guy looking at him with a smile of satisfaction.

“Come on, you’re not going to make me get naked all by myself, are you, Giz?”

“There’s no reason for me to take my clothes off. You’re the one taking the bath.”

“Yeah,” Allan admitted, noticing the way Guy’s gaze dropped to his groin as he began unbuckling his belt. He continued unlacing and pulling off his pants as slowly as possible, relishing the frustration on his lover’s face. “But I’d like it if you did. Isn’t that reason enough?” Allan stepped out of his pants and stood naked next to the tub.

Rather than answering, Guy grinned wickedly and began unfastening his own jacket. Allan rewarded him by stepping into the warm water, easing down into it. The heat suddenly surrounding his body felt so good he had to fight to keep his eyes open and enjoy the show going on in front of him. Guy pulled his undershirt over his head and Allan reveled in the stretch of his muscles under the smooth white skin. Now that it was almost summer, Allan had gotten used to this sight at the end of almost every day, but it never became any less enticing. As Guy stepped towards him, still clad in his pants and boots, Allan frowned with disappointment. “That’s all you’re taking off?” he whined.

“I didn’t want to distract you. Now, tilt your head back,” he ordered, lifting one of the buckets sitting in front of the fire.

Allan did as he was told, and Guy emptied the bucket in a slow, steady stream over his head, soaking his hair thoroughly. Then, he picked up a cake of soap that Allan hadn’t seen from the other side of the tub and began lathering up his hands with it. He buried his fingers in Allan’s hair and began gently massaging his scalp. Allan immediately closed his eyes and his breath hitched with pleasure. How could something he was so indifferent to doing to himself feel so good when done by someone else? Guy moved his fingertips in gentle circles back towards to crown of his head, then removed them to come up from underneath, raking his fingers from his nape up the back of his skull. Allan moaned so loudly that he startled himself, and Guy gave a soft chuckle.

“You like that, do you?”

“Where did you learn to do that?” Allan muttered, sighing as Guy continued massaging the sides of his head and behind his ears.

“It’s not a science, Allan. I do wash my own hair. Now, lean back again.”

He picked up another bucket to rinse the soap out. After briefly drying Allan’s hair with the towel enough that it wasn’t dripping into his eyes, he picked up the soap again and lathered up his hands again. This time, Guy knelt beside him and started soaping up his chest. Allan watched with curiosity, and an idea suddenly struck him. Was Guy going to wash him everywhere? And why? What were they going to do that required him to be so clean? Suddenly the tiny spark of worry he had felt before burst into a full blaze. So far, their sex had been rather unadventurous; mostly, they got each other off by hand. Guy often liked to take Allan into his mouth, but Allan was so intimidated by Guy’s size that he had only attempted to return the favor once. Guy had never complained about the lack of variety, but Allan feared it was only a matter of time. As much as he sympathized with Guy about his past, he had to admit his worry had grown since the other man’s confession. Guy may have been mistreated, but he was also more experienced than himself. Who knew what he expected?”

“Look, Guy. I’m not so sure about this,” he blurted out suddenly.

“About what? Are you so scared of soap? I know you suffered many deprivations in the forest all those months, but you’re in civilization now,” he quipped as he began soaping the back of Allan’s neck. When he brushed against his lover’s pulse, though, the smile dropped from his face.

“What’s the matter, Allan?”

“Nothing,” he replied, trying to sound casual. “Why would you . . . ?

“Because your heart’s pounding like a rabbit’s in a trap, that’s why. What are you frightened of?” Guy rinsed his hands and wiped them on the towel suspended from the back of the tub.

“I . . . I don’t,” Allan stammered. He was beginning to feel a little foolish for not trusting someone who so clearly did not mean to harm him, but that didn’t make it easier to explain.

He sat back in the tub, squirming a little under the other man’s scrutiny.

“Tell me.”

Allan sighed in exasperation and looked away. “Back at the castle, you said you wanted to try something different. I . . . didn’t know what that meant. I just . . . I know you’ve been with a lot of men because of . . . you know. And I just . . . I’m not sure I’m ready for you to fuck me, alright?”

He glanced at Guy long enough to see the wry smirk playing at the corner of his mouth and leaned forward with an exasperated sigh, putting his face in his hands. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut?

“So,” Guy began slowly, “You think that because I used to let men fuck me to pay my lord’s debts, I must want to fuck you because I pay you, is that right?”

“No, it’s not that. I just . . . I’m just confused, Guy. I don’t know why you . . . do some of the things you do. I don’t know if you think I owe you something or . . . think you owe me, or what.”

Guy sighed wearily. “What are you talking about, Allan? Have I ever asked you for something you didn’t want to give?”

“Besides all of Robin Hood’s secrets?” Allan thought, but remained quiet.

“Have I?” Guy repeated, sounding as worried as Allan felt.

“Well, no, but . . . I’m not sure why you give me what you do.” Allan said, wincing internally, hoping Guy wouldn’t ask him to be more specific.

“Like what? Responsibilities?”

“Like your mouth around my cock for no reason.” Apparently, it wasn’t so hard to be specific, but Allan felt regret twisting in his stomach at his words.

He turned to Guy to see his mouth fixed in a firm, dangerous line. “You never complained,” he growled.

Allan’s mind raced. He wanted to change the subject. Actually, he wanted to get out of the tub, get dressed, and leave. But he gathered his courage; this conversation was long overdue.

“No. I liked it. I still do. I just . . . I thought you must have a reason, but now I wonder if the reason is that you think you need to. To keep me loyal, or . . . I don’t know what you thought. But I want to.”

Allan looked at his lover again, anxiously. Guy wiped a hand over his face and held it for a moment over his mouth, as though not trusting himself to speak before he thought it through. “I didn’t explain myself well, then,” he finally said. “You’re safe with me. I know I’ve been . . . unkind at times, but I’d never ill-use you in bed. I know what that’s like. I . . . wanted to show you that I want you and . . . I’m not always good at saying how I feel. I like . . . pleasing you.”

“But you don’t have to, Giz,” Allan said softly, reaching out a damp hand and placing it on Guy’s bare shoulder. Guy covered it with his larger one and gave Allan a slow smile.  
“I want to, Allan. Just because I’ve had to do things with men who I . . . might not have had anything to do with otherwise doesn’t mean I can’t want it for myself. I’ve been hurt by men, but I’ve gotten a lot of pleasure too.”

“Do I give you pleasure?”

Instead of answering, Guy leaned in to give Allan a soft kiss on the mouth. Allan turned as far as the tub would allow and took Guy’s face in his hands, deepening the kiss. After a couple of minutes, Guy pulled away and bent down to retrieve the soap he had placed back next to the tub. He sat forward to kiss Allan again and dip his hand in the tub, wetting it. Allan pulled him as close as he could without soaking him, and when Guy put his hand on his chest for balance, Allan felt that it was covered with lather. He was about to ask whether Guy wanted to kiss him or wash him when his long fingers found one of Allan’s nipples and gave it a twist, the soap creating enough slipperiness to make what could be painful feel absolutely sublime. He moaned into Guy’s mouth and sucked lightly on his tongue. Guy stroked across his chest to give his other nipple the same treatment, and pulled his mouth away from Allan’s to press a line of kisses up the side of his neck. By the time he reached the spot just behind his ear, Allan was panting and shivering lightly. He felt Guy smile against his skin. Then, much to his disappointment, Guy stood up and leered down at him.

“I think it’s time we moved this upstairs, don’t you?” he purred.

Allan could only nod, desperately.

Guy handed him the soap, then rinsed his hands in the water and dried them again.

“Finish washing and meet me there when you’re done.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I've skimped on Allan's pleasure in some earlier parts of this series; hopefully, this chapter will make up for that.
> 
> I have one more story planned for this series; after that, who knows?

When Allan pushed open the bedroom door a few minutes later, he was greeted by the sight of Guy stretched out across the middle of the bed, already naked, and he began to realize the appeal of moving their encounters to Locksley.  Even though they could be alone together in Guy’s bedroom at the castle, they always had to be aware of his guards outside.  Guy trusted his men, sometimes more than Allan thought reasonable, but there had been an unspoken agreement between them from the beginning to minimize the fuel for gossip they provided.  So, they used as little light and made as little noise as possible.  Guy’s bottom lip was often so bruised from biting it to stay quiet that he winced if Allan kissed him too roughly. The thought that now Guy would be able to make as much noise as he pleased excited Allan almost as much as the sight before him.

“Tsk, tsk, Allan,” Guy scolded, indicating his breeches and boots.  “Why did you get dressed again only to put me to the trouble of taking it all back off?”

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pulled Allan down into a deep kiss. Allan stepped closer until he was standing between Guy’s knees, leaning into the kiss, and started to pull down his breeches.  In his haste, he forgot that he was still wearing his boots and nearly fell into Guy’s lap once the breeches were below his knees.

“Let me help you with that,” Guy offered, trying and failing to hide his laughter. Allan sat on the edge of the bed and Guy knelt in front of him.  Once Allan was naked again, he tried to get up to resume their former position, but Guy held his thighs down to keep him in place.

“No.  This is better,” he insisted. Looking down, Allan noticed that Guy was fully hard and damp around the tip already, and wondered if he had been lying there touching himself as he waited for him to finish his bath. His own cock swelled further at the thought. Guy pushed Allan’s legs apart and pressed a kiss to the inside of his knee.  Continuing to kiss his inner thigh, Guy moved higher at a maddeningly slow pace.  By the time he reached Allan’s groin, he was achingly hard and trembling in expectation. Guy grinned evilly and leaned forward, almost touching his lips to his cock, but blowing lightly along the curve instead, making it twitch.

“You bastard,” Allan whined

“Shhhh, Allan.” Guy crooned, kissing the opposite knee.  “Ask nicely,” he teased before placing the same kind of slow, light kisses on Allan’s other thigh.

“Please,” Allan gritted out, using all his willpower to stop himself from thrusting towards Guy’s face.

Guy smirked up at him before he took hold of Allan’s hips and pulled him down until his arse was at the edge of the bed. He lifted each of his legs to drape over his shoulders.  Allan began a sigh of relief when Guy moved his mouth towards his cock, but it turned into a shocked gasp when, instead, he stuck out his tongue to lick underneath his ballsack. He did it again, and Allan let his head fall back as he moaned.  Guy had never put his mouth there before, and each flick of his tongue sent a burst of pleasure up his spine. He spread his legs further to allow him more access.  When Guy licked a broken line from his perineum along the seam of his bollocks to the base of his cock, Allan groaned loudly and fisted a hand in Guy’s hair to keep him in place.

Guy put his own hand on Allan’s and gently disentangled his fingers.

“Just a little longer, pet,” he cooed.  “I’m not quite finished with you.”

Allan still had no idea what Guy had in mind, but he knew he wanted it right now. When Guy sat down on the bed again, he straddled him, and took his face in his hands to kiss him hard.  He pushed his hips forward and both heard and felt Guy’s moan when their erections brushed against each other.  Guy only allowed him one more thrust before putting his hands on either side of his waist and hauling him off of his lap, dropping him on the bed.  He covered Allan’s body with his own and kissed down his front from collarbone to navel, pausing to lick and suck his nipples and making him writhe and arch his back off the bed.

When he reached Allan’s now painfully hard cock, he gave a single kiss to the tip before sitting back between his knees to leer down at him hungrily, ignoring his lover’s groan of frustration. “Roll over and get on your hands and knees, Allan,” he demanded, his voice ragged with desire.  Allan shivered, suddenly nervous again; apparently, Guy was interested in his arse after all. He did as he was told and felt Guy settle behind him, dipping his head to kiss the base of his spine and massaging his cheeks in his long hands.  All the while, Allan was sinking lower and lower towards the bed, hoping to get some friction against his neglected erection.

“Ah ah ah,” Guy chided, lifting him up again by his hips.  “Stay on your knees.  I promise we’ll take care of that in a minute.  If you still need it.”

He started to ask what could possibly relieve his need to have his cock touched besides touching it when he felt Guy spread his cheeks and lick a long wet stripe between them. Allan opened his mouth wide in a silent gasp.  He had never imagined being touched in this way, and was definitely glad of his bath.  He realized this must have been what Guy had in mind from the first, and the thought made him a bit giddy.  He wasn’t quite sure he liked it at first, but if Guy had gone to all this trouble for him to enjoy something, it must be worthwhile. Guy licked him again, this time directly over his hole and with a bit more pressure.  He groaned at the jolt of heat it sent up his spine and dropped his head between his shoulders as Guy circled his hole with just the tip of his tongue.  When Guy pointed his tongue and pushed with enough pressure to open him, Allan swore loudly and felt his cock jerk against his belly.  This was definitely worth the trouble. Guy moaned against him and pushed in deeper, moving his tongue in and out.  He moaned again and the vibrations so deep inside him made Allan shudder with delight.  He clenched around his tongue involuntarily and felt one of Guy’s hands leave his hip. From the way he shifted behind him, Allan was certain Guy was jerking himself off, and that aroused him almost as much as the penetration did.

Suddenly, Guy withdrew completely and sat back again.

“Lie on your back again,” he demanded hoarsely, sounding almost as desperate as Allan felt.

Once Allan was flat on his back, Guy lifted his legs behind the knees and lay down between them. He entered him with his tongue again, this time adding a finger alongside it. Allan winced at that.  It didn’t exactly hurt, but it was intense in a way that was completely different from Guy’s tongue alone.  He continued to lick in and out, moving his finger a little deeper with each push.  When Guy curled it forward, it brushed against a spot that made Allan cry out with sudden, blinding pleasure.

“Oh God, Guy.  Fuck,” he gasped out, arching deeply and clenching tight, trying to draw him further inside.

“Good, yes?” Guy looked up from between Allan’s thighs with a wide grin, obviously knowing exactly how good it felt.

“Do it again, please? Make me come,” he pleaded.

“Touch yourself, Allan.”

He gaped for a second before wrapping his hand around himself.  He’d been so entranced by what Guy was doing to him that he’d forgotten that was an option. At the first tug on his cock he nearly sobbed with relief; he couldn’t remember when he’d been so hard for so long. A few frantic pulls and one more brush of Guy’s finger against his prostate was all it took for him to arch once more and jerk hard, again and again, spurting over his chest and belly. As he collapsed back on the bed, deliciously exhausted, he was dimly aware of Guy kneeling over him, jerking and moaning his way through his own climax.  After taking a minute to catch his breath, Guy pulled a cloth from the bedside table and wiped away the mess on Allan’s front.  The bed dipped under Guy’s weight next to him as he lay down and lifted Allan’s head gently, placing it on his shoulder.

“Are you alright, pet?” he purred.

Allan almost wanted to laugh at the fear he had felt before. “Perfect, Giz.  You?”

Guy pulled Allan closer and nuzzled his hair. He remained silent for so long Allan wondered if he had fallen asleep.  When he did speak, his voice was slow with sleepiness, but also with the weight of something often thought about never said out loud.

“For such a long time, I thought I would be happy here, but I never have been.  I thought . . . just to finally have a home of my own again, but the people here . . . Even five years after he left, they acted as though Robin would walk through the door at any minute and throw me back in the gutter where I belonged.  Since he got back it’s only gotten worse. Then I thought bringing Marian here would make me happy.  Everyone loves her so, even if they still despised me this place should have felt warmer for her being in it, but . . . well, you know how that turned out. But it’s still mine. And now I have you here, and you . . . you actually want me. And I . . . do care for you, Allan. It’s not what I imagined, but maybe . . . in time . . . it could feel like home.”

Allan’s insides twisted with guilt.  Just a few nights ago, he had stood downstairs with Robin and told him about a new scheme of the Sheriff’s to process taxes, facilitating a likely failure that would, no doubt, fall on Guy’s head.  What Guy said was true; his peasants did treat Robin as though he had never left.  It warmed his heart to hear Guy say that he cared for him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was only temporary, only until he found that he, too, was spying on him for Robin. Just like Marian. 

Allan feared that if he spoke, all these horrible truths would come pouring out unbidden, so instead he reached up to give Guy a kiss on the neck, wrapping his arms around him and snuggling in even closer.  He hoped that Guy would find solace in sleep, even if he couldn’t.


End file.
